


In Treatment - An Unfortunate Incident

by DamsonDaForge



Series: In Treatment [3]
Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Daforge friendship, Friendship under strain, Gen, Mind Control Aftermath, PTSD, Therapy, Trauma, mis-communication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 12:02:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28670448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DamsonDaForge/pseuds/DamsonDaForge
Summary: Following Data's manipulation by Lore, Geordi struggles to process and communicate his trauma.  Data's guilt and a dreadful miscalculation threatens their friendship further.  Deanna is on hand to help them try to find a way through.Takes place after the episodes 'Descent, Parts I & II'.
Relationships: Data & Geordi La Forge
Series: In Treatment [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1870396
Comments: 3
Kudos: 20





	In Treatment - An Unfortunate Incident

**Author's Note:**

> Deals with the repercussions of Data's torture of Geordi whilst in thrall to Lore. Themes of guilt, denial and trauma.

* * *

“Why don’t you believe me?”

Geordi’s frustration was evident in the tone of his voice. He had also left his seat and begun pacing Data’s quarters.

“What I did to you was intolerable,” Data replied, remaining seated, as calm as Geordi was animated.

“It wasn’t you,” Geordi said firmly. “It wasn’t.”

“It was me. I wish I had not harmed you, but I did. I cannot comprehend what it must be like, for you to see me each day after what I put you through. I do not think you are okay.”

“Dr Crusher cleared me for duty. That’s the basic definition of okay.”

“She has cleared you physically. As I understand it, you have yet to complete your psychological evaluation with Counselor Troi.”

Geordi was quieted by that, but only for a moment. “It’s a formality, Data, that’s all.”

“Do you recall what happened in Engineering yesterday morning?” Data enquired.

He did not answer right away, but eventually Geordi said, “Yeah.”

“Would you elaborate with your recollection of events?”

Geordi sighed, buying himself some time. When he did respond, his reply was defensive and a little petulant.

“You threw me out of my own department.”

“You are not yet cleared for duty. When I arrived in Engineering and observed your presence, I requested that you return to your quarters or a non-operational area of the ship.”

Geordi did not reply, his agitation having stilled into something else. With no response forthcoming, Data continued.

“When I placed my hand on your arm in an attempt to persuade you to leave, you recoiled.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You recoiled. I should have realised that my touching you in that manner would cause distress. I apologise.”

“Stop apologising!” Geordi yelled. “Stop it! For God’s sake!”

Having given Geordi some time to calm down, Data replied, “The anxiety and stress that you are displaying now and have displayed previously are why I do not believe you.”

Geordi looked at Data for almost ten silent seconds and then he said, “That post is taken.”

“I do not understand.”

“Ship’s Counselor. Job’s taken.”

“Sarcasm will not deter me, Geordi. I am concerned that my actions have irreparably damaged our friendship.”

“Well they haven’t. I’m fine. You’re fine. It’s all fine. I’m stressed because you keep bringing this up and you’re not listening to me. And stop saying ‘my actions’ and ‘what I did’. It wasn’t you doing those things, all right?”

“Saying or wishing a thing does not make it so.”

“You’re my friend. Nothing is going to change that and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you martyr yourself over this.”

“Are you referring to my attempt to destroy the emotion chip?”

“Yes!”

“I did not intend to martyr myself with that act. I intended to remove a source of potential harm from those around me.”

“Then why didn’t you ask me lock it away somewhere? Me or Worf or the Captain. But no, you were going to vaporise it with a phaser.”

“It seemed the most efficient and permanent solution.”

Geordi turned to stare at Data. “Don’t give me that.”

“I did not want to run the risk of hurting you again. If the chip no longer existed, you could not be harmed by its effects upon me.”

“You think I’d want to be the cause of that?” Geordi asked.

“The cause of what?” 

“I told you, I’m not going to let you throw your dreams away over this. He doesn’t get to win again.”

Geordi was becoming increasingly riled which meant Data was having some difficulty following the logic of his responses.

“To whom are you referring? Lore?”

“Of course Lore! Are you being deliberately dense? He stole that chip from you and the second you get it back, you want to destroy it? _No_.”

“I was motivated to protect you.”

“I don’t _need_ protecting!” Geordi yelled, exasperated. “Not from you! Have you heard a word I’ve said? It wasn’t you doing those things and it wasn’t the emotions that made you do it. It was Lore. He got inside your head and he messed with your programming.”

Geordi was breathing hard and he was angry. Angrier than Data had possibly ever seen. He watched, fascinated, as Geordi forced himself to calm down.

“I don’t want to shout at you, Data. But I don’t want to keep having this same conversation and keep raking over it again and again.”

His friend was then quiet for some time, but something in his demeanour meant Data understood he should not interject.

“I know what it’s like,” Geordi said softly, breaking into that long, still silence. “To have someone crawling around inside your head. Someone who made you do things you didn’t want to do. So don’t keep telling me this was you, because I know damn well that it wasn’t.”

“It was me. I do not know how else to tell you. I was aware and present and chose to act on those impulses. Regardless of their origins, I chose to hurt you.”

Geordi glared at Data and it was evident that his anger was boiling up again. “I didn’t choose to be taken by the Romulans and you didn’t choose this. You didn’t choose to hurt me.”

“I did hurt you. I almost killed you.”

Geordi jabbed his finger into the tension between them. “You need to stop this. You need to stop with this guilt-trip, Data.”

“I do not feel guilty.”

“No? You’re doing a pretty good impression.”

Picard’s voice rang out from Data’s mouth. “So I have been told.”

Geordi froze. His mouth fell open. 

“What the hell was that?” Geordi’s words were ice-encrusted and incredulous.

Data was momentarily confused. His head twitched as he carried out a rapid diagnostic review. He was uncertain as to why that particular pathway had been activated, sanctioned and executed.

“I am… sorry if my attempt at humour has failed,” Data said distractedly, still trying to analyse this clearly faulty response.

“Yeah,” said Geordi, making for the door, “it’s like I said before, it needs a little work.”

Data experienced a severe fifty-millisecond drag on his clock-speed and then he was out of his seat, hurrying to follow Geordi into the corridor.

“Geordi, I did not mean to upset you,” he called after him.

“Forget it,” Geordi shouted over his shoulder and he disappeared around the corner.

Data determined that further pursuit would be unwise and he returned to his quarters, unsettled that his attempt to speak with Geordi on this matter had ended with such a damaging failure.

*~*~*~*

“What happened last night?”

Data was sat on Deanna’s couch, hands neatly folded, his stiff posture so reminiscent of one of her nervous humanoid patients. Deanna had felt the sudden heat of Geordi’s intense anger but also the moment it had frozen into something far, far more complex, so she had been a little surprised that it was Data who had contacted her for a consultation.

“We had another argument and –”

Data paused, looking troubled, even more so than when he had come to see her following his killing of the Borg.

“Data, what is it?”

“I said something dreadful to Geordi.”

“I find that hard to believe, Data.”

He looked at her with deep regret. “In a failed attempt to inject levity into the discussion, I again mimicked Captain Picard’s voice. I do not know why.”

Deanna’s face fell. “You did what?” she said, her mask of professional detachment slipping as the full awfulness of Data’s confession hit home.

Data’s pained expression deepened. “I am at something of a loss to explain why I did this. I was hoping you would be able to offer some insight and how I might go about repairing the damage I have caused.”

Recovering her poise, Deanna said, “I don’t know exactly how your neurology works, but in a humanoid, when a pathway has been recently activated there is a strong possibility that it will be activated again. A song might recur in a dream, or a topic of conversation might provoke a discussion a few days later in a different context. You might use an unusual word which was spoken by someone else hours earlier. The activation of the pathway has primed it and there is an unconscious bias towards it for a short time. Does that help at all with what you experienced?”

“I believe it does. In our argument, Geordi remarked that I did ‘a pretty good impression’. Geordi was referring to guilt, but if your supposition is correct, Geordi’s use of the word impression caused the activation of a recently utilised pathway. It does not explain why I considered it an appropriate response, when it clearly was not.”

“Do you know now why it was inappropriate?”

“Yes.” Data’s head turned from her slightly and his gaze fell. “I used the same ability to deceive Geordi into thinking his rescue was imminent. To replicate that was to remind him of that experience.”

“That’s right. Can you explain to me why you’ve only been able to make that connection later? Why it wasn’t flagged as problematic before you spoke those words as Captain Picard last night?”

“I am having difficulty in performing the necessary analysis. I would normally request assistance from Geordi, but I do not feel able to discuss this with him at this time, particularly given the nature of the problem.”

“Then let’s see if we can work it out together.”

“Thank you Counselor. I do not wish to speak with Geordi until I have this malfunction resolved.”

Deanna felt nothing from Data empathically and yet she found that she was profoundly moved by his care and concern for Geordi.

“Data,” she said, “I’m interested in how the two instances differ in their emotional and ethical context. Can you describe that for me?”

“When the idea originally came to me in the laboratory, I felt a surge of pride. I had come up with the ruse without Lore’s input and it felt good. I felt that he would approve and I very much wanted his approval.”

Deanna made some notes. “What else can you tell me? About how you felt or what you thought?”

“When I revealed it was not Captain Picard that was present, I felt pleasure in that moment.” Data frowned. “I felt pleasure in crushing Geordi’s hope. However, his subdued reaction was a disappointment and so I moved on with the procedure.”

“And at this time your ethical and moral programming were not functioning in any way?”

“That is correct.”

“Can you tell me about last night? How would you describe the moment you realised what had happened?”

“It was when I perceived Geordi’s reaction. His body language, facial expression and initial lack of a verbal response triggered my error-detection subroutine. This fed into the ethical algorithm which suggested that I had erred 0.16 seconds before Geordi confirmed it verbally.”

Deanna had been listening closely to everything that Data had been saying. The two instances were mirror images of each other: emotion without ethics versus unemotional morality. 

“How would you contrast the two memories? Can you describe any similarities or differences for me?”

“That is a difficult question. The emotional content of the first incident is not now accessible to me. I recall the fact that I felt those things, but not the feelings themselves. There is no emotional context in the second, however new pathways have been formed in my ethical programme as a result.”

“What ethical pathways were created for the first incident?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“When your programme rebooted and you were able to perceive that your actions were wrong, how were those earlier memories affected?”

“Intriguing, Counselor.” Data became still and reflected for a short time. “Fascinating,” he murmured.

“What is it, Data?” Deanna could see there had been some kind of breakthrough.

“The memories formed prior to the reboot are not present within my ethical framework. They are stored in my general memory and are not cross-referenced. They are therefore neutral in my recollection from a moral standpoint. The memories formed immediately following the reboot are fully present and trigger my ethical programme when I access them. I was unaware that this anomaly had occurred.” He shook his head minutely.

“It’s not surprising to me that you’re experiencing some issues. Your ability to assign a moral value to a behaviour was completely removed. I can see how it might not have been retrospectively applied.”

“As can I. This was clearly not a situation my programming was designed to anticipate. I will write a correctional retrospective algorithm, which will prevent a faulty response based on those memories in future.”

“I’m so glad that I could help you with this,” said Deanna, looking to wrap up their appointment.

“I am grateful to you in this matter, however it leaves unresolved the damage that I have done to my relationship with Geordi. I have hurt him again and I do not know how to make amends.”

“I wish it was as easy as writing a new subroutine,” Deanna said. “I think Geordi needs some space. You have been very keen to speak with him on this, but from everything you’ve told me and from everything I have felt from him, he isn’t ready. His trauma is very raw and complex. It will take time for him to come to terms with everything that has happened.”

“When is your assessment of Geordi’s fitness for duty scheduled?”

“For the day after tomorrow.”

Data nodded. “I will avoid discussing this topic with him until further notice from you, Counselor.”

“I think that would be for the best.”

Data did not move to leave. “May I ask a final question?”

“Of course.”

“Geordi is adamant that he does not blame me for what happened, but evidently and justifiably, he remains very angry with me. I should like to know, will you able to determine if he has truly forgiven me?”

“Oh, Data,” Deanna said, quickly setting aside her notes so that she could sit next to him. “I know he is very angry, but I want to reassure you that anger isn’t directed at you, not exactly. I know it can seem that way, but he is very frustrated and upset. An awful thing happened and he doesn’t feel that he has anywhere for those emotions to go. In his own way, he is trying to protect you.”

“I do not fully understand,” Data said. He stood up. “I will await the outcome of your assessment. Good day, Counselor.”

“Goodbye, Data,” Deanna said, her heart heavy for the both of them.

*~*~*~*

“Counselor, when those entities took over you and Data and O’Brien, did Captain Picard or Worf or Keiko have to forgive you?”

Geordi was fuming and his anger burned like a sun in the centre of Deanna’s mind.

“No,” she replied, carefully, “but knowing that they didn’t hold that behaviour against us was very helpful in our coming to terms with what happened.”

“Exactly,” Geordi said. “So why won’t anyone believe me?”

“Because you suffered a sustained physical and psychological assault which was perpetrated by your closest friend.”

“You’re doing it now! _Data_ didn’t do those things. Has he been to see you? Is that where this is coming from?”

“This is the standard assessment interview, that’s all.”

Geordi’s disbelief washed over her. “He got in here before me, didn’t he? _Didn’t he_?”

“Data is very concerned about the whole situation. Because of the other night, he is worried that he’s made it worse.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Geordi muttered. “He told you about that?”

“You’re very, very angry.”

“Of course I’m angry! My best friend was forced to turn on me, everyone wants me to blame him and nobody is listening to my side of things!”

“I’m listening now,” Deanna said and she felt Geordi’s anger ratchet higher.

“Yeah? And what are you hearing?”

“I hear someone in pain, struggling to deal with what happened to them.”

“What I can’t _deal_ with is everyone constantly raking over it,” Geordi said. His voice was harsh and directed at the floor. “Even Worf keeps asking me if I’m okay.”

“Why?”

Geordi looked up. “Why what?”

“Why can’t you deal with people being concerned for you?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Isn’t it? 

“No.”

“You are very self-sufficient in that respect. I understand why you don’t like to feel vulnerable.”

Geordi snorted. “Show me someone that does.”

“I’m mean particularly in your case. Your disability and your prosthesis make you uniquely vulnerable.”

“And your empathic ability makes you uniquely vulnerable and Data’s positronic net makes _him_ uniquely vulnerable.”

Geordi’s response was a good one, a block and parry worthy of one of Captain Picard’s fencing moves. 

“I know why you don’t want to be seen as vulnerable,” Deanna said. “But we all are at times. No one would ever know that you’re in constant pain. You hid the fact that you were being bullied from your parents. Pretending that you’re okay can work for a time, it can work for a long time, but eventually something will break.”

“Is that what everyone is waiting for? For me to have a breakdown? I’m not going to break.”

“Not today, perhaps not next week or next month, but I’m worried about you. You nearly died at the hands of the person you trust most in the universe. Data has said he never had a friend before he met you. I’m wondering if something similar might also be true for you.”

Deanna knew that his life had been a series of curtailed friendships and short relationships and she knew there was no-one he trusted so completely. Geordi’s absolute faith in Data, a solid, beautiful, certain thing had been shaken to its very foundations.

“I’m going to recommend a leave of absence,” she said into the silence.

“I need to work.”

“Do you remember, years ago, you were in command whilst we were under attack? You asked me if I thought you were going to crack. I said no, you were coping with the pressure and the stress extremely well. You are an incredibly resilient person, but everyone has a point at which they can’t go on. You need a break. From work, perhaps from the _Enterprise_. Perhaps from Data.”

“I don’t believe I’m hearing this,” Geordi said. “I don’t.”

“I think you use work as a crutch and you have done for a long time. You run the single largest department on the ship and some of the hours you work are ridiculous.”

“Everybody works long hours when there’s an emergency.”

“I’m not talking about those times. The last time the ship had some unexpected downtime, where were you?”

Geordi looked blank.

“You were in Engineering with Data, seeing if he could run the ship in the event of a computer failure. That’s not downtime, that’s not relaxation, that is work.”

Geordi didn’t respond.

“I need you to start taking care of yourself,” Deanna said. “Especially now. I don’t think you fully realise how ill you were.”

“Dr Crusher says I’m fine.”

“You have physically healed, but emotionally and psychologically you haven’t begun your journey.”

“So you’re not going to pass me,” Geordi said flatly and his words were a statement, not a question.

*~*~*~*

Geordi pulled a sweater out of the dresser and threw it listlessly into the holdall on his bed. They would be at Starbase 26 in a couple of hours, where he’d be disembarking to catch a transport shuttle to Sirius Station. 

Ordinarily he’d have been looking forward to spending time with his sister, but this all felt wrong. He’d been bounced into taking the leave and then been conspired against by his family. They’d arranged for him to meet up with Ariana at a ski resort on Sirius Major.

Geordi felt a deep, jittering need for things to go back to normal and packing for a ski trip wasn’t normal. Work was normal, poker night was normal, messing about on the holodeck with Data was normal. 

He hadn’t realised how much he’d been counting on getting back into that routine. Having it pulled from underneath him had left him reeling.

It was hard to stop his mind from turning constantly back to those horrendous, fear-filled hours. There were the bruises for a start. On his upper arm, where Data had dragged him to his feet. On his wrists, where he’d been strapped down. Around his throat, where Data had threatened to break his neck. He wasn’t sure if they were even visible to his friends and colleagues – probably not – but Geordi could see them as well as feel them. Dull little patches of pain, he could understand why they'd been missed and not been treated. They were the most minor of minor injuries, especially when set against the fact that the medical staff had been trying to save him from severe brain damage or death. It did mean Geordi could feel Data’s hands on him still, hard and unflinching, as well as see his finger-marks where they showed above the collar of his uniform.

From there, it was a short hop to re-living full the horror of the procedure that had been inflicted upon him. He could feel the punch of the needle firing the fibres into his brain. Numbed by the anaesthetic, the only sensation had been a sort of creeping coldness inside his head. As the fibres had spread, smothering his brain like a strangler fig overwhelming its host, Geordi had known he had very little time. From initially only feeling dizzy and being able to hold a conversation, quite suddenly he was no longer able to speak, the dizziness becoming so intense he could hardly stand up. It had started to feel like a million electrified ants were crawling under his skin, biting and stinging. He couldn’t settle, he couldn’t be still, and all the while knowing the next time Data came for him, he was going to die. He had been in bad situations before, afraid for his life before, hell, he’d even been to his own funeral, but he had never before been so _sure_. Given what Data was proposing, Geordi couldn’t see how he would possibly survive.

His door chimed, breaking through the bleak chill of his memory.

“Come in,” he said, pushing away as best he could the grim sensations, leaving his bag half-filled on the bed.

Data stepped through the doors. A sick mixture of anger and fear welled up in Geordi’s mind. He tried to batter away those feelings, they were a nonsense. He was perfectly safe. He’d looked it up and it was a reaction to cortisol and adrenaline, that was all.

“I did not wish for you to leave before I could say goodbye,” his friend said, apologetic somehow even with that simple statement.

Geordi tried to stay calm, even though his heart was rattling his ribcage.

“Thanks,” he said stiffly and a cold trickle of sweat ran down his spine. “I’m nearly packed.”

Data noted the bag on his bed and nodded.

Silence fell between them.

Unfamiliar and unwelcome, it played out into long, empty seconds.

“Geordi, are you all right?”

“Of course I’m all right,” he said, keeping his voice as even as he could, despite how he felt.

“Your heart rate is elevated fifty-two per cent above your baseline average.”

“Going on vacation!” Geordi said, hearing the bite in his words.

“I do not think the elevation is due to excitement about your trip.”

“Not now, Data, please.” 

“Geordi, I also did not want you to leave before I apologise for the unfortunate incident four nights ago.”

Before he was able to stamp down on the thought, Geordi’s mind spat, _Is that what he’s calling it?_

Trying to stop his thoughts spiralling, Geordi started telling himself it was no big deal, that it was just a fucked up thing that happened. He’d forget all about it if only Data would let him.

“I have discussed the matter with Counselor Troi,” Data said.

“I know you have,” Geordi replied, trying not to snap.

“She has offered some valuable insights in the possible reasons for my behaviour. They do not however excuse what I did. Geordi, I am sorry.”

Glaring at the floor, Geordi was struggling to keep his temper. He could feel the rage building, nearly choking off his words.

“You keep saying sorry,” he ground out. “Over and over, like that will fix it. And it doesn’t. It makes it worse and I can’t explain it to you any better than I have. I don’t blame you, but I'm so angry, sometimes it’s like I could rip the ship to pieces.”

“I do not understand,” said Data, “but I believe you.”

Those words. Those were the ones that Geordi had been desperate to hear and they cut through his rage and his fear and his confusion. They swept over the raging fires of his anger and his pain like cooling, soothing rain. For a while, Geordi wasn’t able to speak, the relief at being heard and being believed robbing him of his voice.

Eventually, Geordi said softly, “I need you to understand that you don’t have to keep saying you’re sorry.”

“What I did to you was intolerable. I do not know what else to do.”

Geordi rubbed his fingers over his forehead and then pressed them into his temples. His head was pounding.

“If… If I had killed Governor Vagh…” he began.

Data looked at him in surprise. Geordi very rarely spoke about what had happened during that horrific time. He knew that Data understood that even after years, it was painful and difficult for him to discuss, his continuing sessions with Counselor Troi sometimes more than he could stand.

“If I had killed him,” Geordi said, forcing himself to continue, “would that have been my fault?”

“Of course not,” Data said.

Geordi nodded, acknowledging Data’s answer. “And because of how they did it, should I have had my VISOR taken away?”

Data gave the smallest shake of his head. “No, Geordi.”

Geordi was now struggling to speak. “They…” He took a shaking breath. “He reached inside your head and… broke a piece of who you were. It’s not your fault.”

“But you are distressed by my presence,” Data stated.

“I’m trying not to be,” Geordi said, looking up at his friend as tears welled unseen behind his VISOR. He tried to swallow the hard knot in his throat. “I don’t know why I can’t get past this.”

“It is all right. Counselor Troi explained that your feelings will be difficult to navigate and complex to resolve. I do not wish to add to your difficulties, I wish to help.”

Geordi could only nod in reply, not trusting himself to speak.

“I will allow you to continue packing,” Data said. “I hope you have a pleasant time.”

As his friend moved to leave, Geordi called out.

“One second,” he said, his voice still rough with emotion. “One second, Data.”

He went over to his nightstand and took a small, white box from the drawer. He handed it to Data, who opened it gently.

“It is my emotion chip,” he said, his golden eyes wide.

Data had given it to him a little over a week ago, trusting it to Geordi’s safe keeping.

“If I get to keep my VISOR,” Geordi said, “you get to keep this. You’ve got to promise me one thing, though.”

“Anything,” Data said, the single word awash with a kind of reverence.

“Promise me, you won’t do anything stupid to it while I’m gone.”

“I will not. You have my word, Geordi.”

As Data turned to leave, a thought occurred.

“Hey,” Geordi called out. “That doesn’t mean you can do something stupid _after_ I get back.”

“I understood the intent behind your original statement,” Data said, politely, “but thank you for the clarification.”

“Just making sure,” said Geordi, surprised but also comforted to find a smile had crept onto his lips.


End file.
